


36 Questions

by wolfzaa



Category: Actor RPF, Life (2017) RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Falling In Love, Fluff, I de-aged them a bit, Implied/Referenced Anxiety Disorder, M/M, Nothing serious though, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Relationship, Strangers to Lovers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, blink and you miss it - Freeform, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfzaa/pseuds/wolfzaa
Summary: They met in a small white room with one table, two chairs, two sheets of paper, and a recorder.“This is awkward,” was the first thing Jake said when they were left alone.  They came here as a part of a psychological study, a replicated one about interpersonal closeness that tried to make people fall in love with astranger.His partner raised his eyebrow and chuckled, nodding at him as a greeting.“Nice to meet you too.” The man winked. “It’s Ryan.  Ryan Reynolds.”





	36 Questions

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really surprised there's no fanfiction for these two. I mean, come on, have you seen their chemistry? Their interviews together? They're gold, baby. Pure gold. If anyone knows what their ship name is or if there's any fanfiction out there, please tell me. I ship them real hard.  
> This has nothing to do with their real lives, though. I mean no harm.
> 
> Inspired by the song ["Wildfire" by Seafret](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHhkd2B87Q8) and its MV. I suggest you to take a look at it first; it'll worth your time, I promise.
> 
> I have no regrets.

They met at the university; not as students but as participants in a psychological study, a replicated one about interpersonal closeness. Anne brought him here. Her friend asked for help and she sent him, Jake, instead. Because she wanted him to fall in love. Again. With a stranger. Because that was the main purpose, wasn’t it? Making two strangers fall in love with each other in short span of time. Well, it wasn’t Aron’s first intention, but it _was_ what these researchers trying to recreate. Jake didn’t expect anything out of it. He wasn’t even sure how Anne got him to say yes in the first place. Perhaps he was too drunk to think straight. Maybe it wasn’t just a _perhaps._ Yep. He was definitely drunk when he agreed to this.

(When asked, his partner said he came here because it sounded fun. End of the story. Jake was kind of jealous of how the man lived his life.)

They met in a small white room with one table, two chairs, two sheets of paper, and a recorder. Jake couldn’t help but wonder how the researchers arranged a pair. The application form Anne sent him was ridiculously long, asking for his personal information, sexual orientation, lifestyle, along with his attitude towards love and romantic relationships. They matched him with a man around his age. He seemed fine. Jake wondered where they were heading to, knowing the researchers wanted them to fall in love. All they needed to do was went through all these thirty-six questions and looked at each other in the eyes for four minutes.

“This is awkward,” was the first thing Jake said when they were left alone. His partner raised his eyebrow and chuckled, nodding at him as a greeting.

“Nice to meet you too.” The man winked. “It’s Ryan. Ryan Reynolds.”

“Jake.” He paused before he added, “Gyllenhaal.”

“Gyllenhaal?”

“Gyllenhaal,” he repeated. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven. You?”

“Thirty-three.”

There was another pause—a typical awkward silence between two strangers Jake didn’t know how to handle—so he laughed to fill it. Jake always laughed when he was nervous. Ryan smiled back. He was taller than Jake, even when they sat down. His eyes shone confidence and his smile spoke mischief. He was something.

“This is weird,” Jake mumbled. Having a conversation with a stranger wasn’t that weird, but staring at a stranger in an experiment could be. Ryan’s smile widened.

“Yup. This is weird,” the man agreed. “Okay—Let’s see what we got here, hm? You wanna go first?”

“After you.”

“Alright. Do you think we’re gonna fall in love and have sex after we walk out of this room?”

Jake sputtered. “What?”

“Just kidding. _Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?_ ”

Jake tried his hardest not to overthink things as he always did; it was in his nature. He wasn’t spontaneous. Anne called him a killjoy during a twenty-question game for a reason.

“I—Man, this is hard,” he grunted. “I don’t know.  Someone from the Beatles? Shit, I don’t know.”

“Not bad. I’d say Tom Cruise.”

“Tom Cruise?”

“Why not?” Ryan deadpanned. “I could be a movie star and he could do all my stunts.”

That totally broke the ice.

Laughing with a stranger wasn’t so bad. The questions, too, weren’t as awkward as Jake initially feared. Maybe they actually were, but the way Ryan asked him made them less awkward. Jake was usually more reserved, almost self-serious—as Anne had once put—but the moment Ryan’s words left his mouth, they automatically brought a smile to Jake’s lips. He smiled like a fool, more than he did in a week, actually. Jake didn’t even know how Ryan managed something like that to happen. Nobody could ever do just that.

Some of the questions were simple and straightforward. Some of them weren’t. Ryan burst out laughing when Jake asked, “ _Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?_ ”

“Oh, boy. This one is great,” Ryan said with a big grin on his face. “It won’t be pretty. Nope. Not pretty at all.”

“Is that your final answer?” There. Jake was laughing _again_. “That says something.”

“We all die once,” was Ryan’s defense. “What about you?”

“No idea. All I know is I want a _‘I had a blind date while being a part of a psychological experiment’_ on my grave.”

Ryan stared at him, dead serious.

“Damn, _you_ are good.”

Jake shrugged dismissively. He still tried not to think too hard about what he would answer, though some questions did require a lot of consideration, such as:

“ _If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?_ ”

Jake lost in thoughts for a long, damn while.

“I can’t change a thing,” he answered eventually. “I mean, I couldn’t ask for more. It could’ve been worse, right?”

“Just name something you didn’t have as a kid, c’mon.”

Jake grimaced. “Sense of humor.”

Ryan almost choked on his laughter.

“Wow, this whole thing just keeps getting better and better. I like that,” Ryan announced, pointing at Jake. “I like _you_.”

“Your turn now.”

“Me?” Ryan shook his head slightly. “Well, obviously, I’d change everything that gave me anxiety. Fuck it all.”

“Oh.”

Ryan quirked his brow.

“Oh?”

“What?”

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Isn’t that rude?”

“Most people don’t care about that.”

“Guess I’m not in the majority.”

Most people would just go for _‘You’re kidding,’_ or _‘I could never tell,’_ —ready to judge—but Jake didn’t know that. Ryan clicked on his tongue. There was a glint in his brown eyes, shining bright with something Jake couldn’t quite describe; a combination of astonishment and amusement, maybe. Something like fire. Like he was— _intrigued._

The look didn’t fade for another seven questions.

It was Jake’s turn to read this time. “ _What is your most terrible memory?_ ”

Ryan didn’t waste a second answering.

“Being jobless,” he said. “I couldn’t afford my meds to the point I couldn’t go to a job interview. I didn’t want to sleep and I didn’t even want to wake up. I’ve been like that for a while and it sucked.”

Jake tensed up. He had warned himself that sooner or later, this session would step into their personal space—somewhere they didn’t usually share with someone they just met to somewhere they kept _only_ for themselves. It was too private. He _knew_ this would come up at some point; he wasn’t prepared for it anyway.

Jake fidgeted in his seat. Of course, Ryan was waiting for him to reply.

“I—um, I don’t think I should—”

“Hey,” Ryan cut him off, chuckling softly at his response as though he could read Jake’s mind. “I agreed to come here on my own, dude. Whatever I’m gonna say in this room? I’m perfectly fine to tell you so and I don’t regret a word. Your turn now. What’s your most terrible memory?”

There was a beat of silence. Jake found that he couldn’t bear looking into Ryan’s eyes; not when they were this sincere.

“I—” Jake hesitated. “Shit, I don’t know where to begin.”

“Just make it short, then,” Ryan offered. “C’mon, I won’t talk. We’ve got nothing to lose here. It’s not like I know someone you know to spread the damn words anyway, right?”

Jake inhaled. _Just make it short_ , he told himself. _Keep it simple and emotionless._

“I lost someone,” he said carefully; it almost came out as a whisper. “I wasn’t— We weren’t together, no. He just— I—”

His throat went suddenly dry. Jake couldn’t find his voice; he couldn’t form a word, couldn’t think of one. _Emotionless my arse._

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Jake’s head snapped up. It was Ryan—Ryan and a stern look on his face Jake hadn’t seen before with his hand grabbing Jake’s wrist a little too harshly, like he was trying to pull Jake out of water.

Jake blinked at him. “But—”

“Enough is enough, man,” Ryan said sharply. “Fuck the experiment. They can’t make you say shit like that no matter how good they paid you.”

His tone wasn’t that protective, just straightforward. It was just the way he dealt with this world, Jake later realized, frank and sincere. Jake looked down at their touched hands, pulled back, and nodded in gratitude.

“Fuck them,” Jake repeated slowly.

“Fuck them.”

“Just so you know, this conversation is recorded.”

“Fuck them anyway.”

Jake tried to stifle a laugh and failed miserably. Ryan grinned back; his smile was incredibly contagious.

“You’re insane,” Jake commented. Ryan slid his chair slightly backwards and took a bow mockingly.

“I wonder how they’re gonna jot that one down, though. _We asked them extremely intrusive questions and these two idiots decided to say, ‘Fuck you,’—_ Damn, this is brilliant.” Ryan glanced at the next question. “Okay, let’s answer this instead: _what is your most treasured memory?_ ”

Jake’s face lightened up a bit. To Ryan, his eyes were so blue he almost forgot how blue the sky was.

“I like this moment,” Jake answered truthfully. “I like what we’re having—what _I’m_ having right now. You know, after what I’ve been through—I just hope I could make the best memory out of every second I have left.” Then he groaned, “Oh, god. That sounds cheesy as fuck.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Ryan said before he took his turn. “You remember what I told you in that greatest accomplish question? When I finally figured out how to run my damn bar and it worked? That’s it. It’s the moment when you got something right, like, _right_ -right. So damn right.  _When you realize what you’re truly good at_ -right. That’s my best moment. The best day of my life.”

“Sounds like a good bar you’ve got there.”

Ryan hummed. “Have you seen it? I’m sure I’ve made a page, a food magazine or something.”

“Nope. Never heard of it.”

“You can come visit me sometimes. Free gin for a night.”

“I don’t drink gin.”

“Where is your culture?”

“Don’t have one, apparently.”

Ryan barked out a laugh. When something clicked, it just clicked. It took only half a second to fall into places and lied there waiting to be noticed. Jake wasn’t quite sure how hard he laughed after that, along with Ryan.

The questions went on. They had about a dozen left as Jake read, “ _Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items_ — This one is easy. Sense of humor.”

Ryan shot back without skipping a beat, “Your eyes are fucking stunning.”

“You has a nice smile it’s annoying.”

“You’re smart.”

“I’m not. All back at you,” Jake countered. “Smart is the new sexy, isn’t it?”

“Flirty.” Ryan gave him a quick wink. “That’s the third.”

“Unique.”

“Sarcastic.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “And your personality isn’t too bad.”

“Yours is just bearable.”

“Touché.”

The banter was easy. The stories they shared, too, came up a lot easier than several minutes ago. Jake didn’t bare his soul, not yet, though he said more than he intended to. Ryan told him many things about his family, his childhood, his deepest, darkest secret on how he got his anxiety, how he made it through, and laughed like a madman. For the briefest moment, Jake wished he could do just the same.

He almost did.

It was Jake’s turn to read the question again. They were reaching the bottom of the page. Six more questions.

“ _When did you last cry in front of another person?_ ”

Ryan made a face at this. “Jeez. Ten, maybe? It’s been a while. I can’t remember it.”

Jake blushed as he murmured sheepishly, “Last week.”

“Really?”

“I grew up in a family of artists. I still cry for a fucking great art,” Jake admitted. “It’s weird, I know. Don’t laugh.”

“It’s not. It’s cool,” Ryan said. “You’re cool.”

“Oh, shut it.”

“No kidding this time, I swear. See, I’m answering the next question already: _what, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?_ ” Ryan nodded at him. “You.”

“Really? Is that how you flirt?”

“I’m not flirting. You’re flirting,” Ryan sing-songed. “Okay, sorry. I can joke to hell and back, man. I have no limits. Can’t think of one.”

“Don’t I know it?”

But he didn’t joke about Jake’s past. He didn’t cross that one line named _privacy_ Jake drew between them. He didn’t even touch the subject again unless Jake was comfortable enough to bring it up himself. ( _‘What roles do love and affection play in your life?’_ —Jake told Ryan about _him_ then. He told the man how loving someone made him and how losing that person broke him. How he survived the grief. How he coped with his life. How love wasn’t all about love and how he embraced his scars. Jake had never told anyone about it and Ryan just _listened._ Jake wasn’t ready to bare his heart in front of anyone else, not anymore, but he was very close to.)

Jake couldn’t help but think that this whole experiment was goddamn bullshit. Anyone could easily fall in love with someone as likeable as Ryan.

They finished their last question eventually with another round of laughter— _‘Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.’_ —They were too sarcastic to give a simple advice. But they laughed. Fuck the problems if they could laugh like this forever. Fuck everything because the world they carried didn’t feel that heavy anymore. To be honest, Jake hadn’t felt this relax in _years._

At the end of the page read: _please stare silently into each other's eyes for four minutes._

Ryan leaned in slightly. “Shall we start?”

They hit it off for two seconds before bursting into fits of laughter.

“Oh, my god. Four minutes? Are you fucking kidding me?” Jake coughed into his hand, trying his best to suppress the laughter. “This is harder than answering questions!”

“You laughed first!”

“Is it my fault?  You smiled!”

“That’s my default face, sweetheart. You can’t blame me for that!”

It took them a few minutes to calm down before they could start again. Jake decided not to look straight into Ryan’s eyes and ended up somewhere between them. He could see Ryan trying to follow his irises with interest, like he wanted to know what would happen if their eyes locked again. Jake wondered how long he could resist the silent challenge Ryan was throwing at him.

About ten seconds, at most.

Ryan’s eyes were deep brown, filled with his signature laughter that could lighten up the entire city. Jake had never known anyone like him.

Jake didn’t know it was mutual.

He wasn’t aware of how he was affecting Ryan. How the blue in his eyes held the whole universe and showed _everything._ Ryan fell into the color in front of him, dumbstruck, drowned. Jake started when their feet touched under the table, but the eye-contact was still there, never broken. Something fell between them, spreading like wildfire. Jake needed to focus on his breathing because this quiet, Ryan’s presence was _huge._ He erased the whole room, sucked all the air out, and Jake didn’t know how he was going to survive this. Ryan had his own gravity that had nothing to do with the Earth’s, pulling everything into his direction and just _be himself._ No one could ever beat that.

No one except him, if he asked Ryan; he didn’t.

They forgot the timer.

Jake bit his bottom lip. Ryan didn’t glance down, but surely, he could see the movement. Jake noticed how the man’s fingers drummed softly on the table—a tic, a sign, a warning, maybe—but Ryan’s eyes showed no anxiety. A wall called _strangers_ crumbled into pieces. Like a broken dam. Jake was lost for a moment. He had no idea how he was feeling right now; he just felt it. He just breathed it in and felt it all.

Ryan gave him a small smile. Jake smiled back. He could see Ryan’s eyes dilated; perhaps it was the light.

Two minutes passed. Two and a half. Jake felt a little dazed.

Three minutes.

Ryan’s fingers were still on the table, tapping faster and faster. He looked like he could kiss Jake any moment but he didn’t. Three minutes and fifteen seconds. Ryan was knocking the wooden surface with his knuckles now in the manner of someone restraining himself.

Four minutes.

Nobody dared avert their eyes. Jake leaned forward; his hands were on the table, inches away from Ryan’s. Centimeters. Millimeters. None. Jake supposed he should be more awkward about the hand holding yet he didn’t have a heart to. They didn’t know if there would be a chance to stare into those eyes ever again; thus they didn’t move.

Everything just clicked.

Both of them started when they heard a loud noise coming from outside. The experiment was over; all the participants from the other rooms were all out, talking. Jake was the first to break the contact, both their eyes and hands, then retreated to the door. Ryan followed him.

Jake stared at the hallway, looking at the other pairs talking to each other. Some of them went separate way just like that. Some of them were still laughing together. Some of them looked so embarrassed, blushing hard like a schoolgirl talking to her crush. Some of them couldn’t even look at their partner for a minute longer.

“Well?”

Jake glanced back at Ryan. “Well what?”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.”

Three researchers exited their room with clipboards tucked under their arms. Jake watched them thank the participants and wondered how the result would be. He reminded himself to ask Anne for a follow-up.

Ryan closed the door behind them. Standing up, the height difference was pretty obvious. Glancing around, Jake was sure his partner was the tallest one present.

“I was thinking, you know,” Ryan said carefully, “About asking for your number.”

Jake chuckled. “Now you’re not?”

Ryan grunted a soft, “Ah, fuck it,” and pulled Jake into a kiss. Amazingly, they managed to keep it chaste. Jake was all in for public affection so he couldn’t care less, and Ryan’s lips felt pretty damn good. The researchers would be so proud.

“I drove here,” Jake murmured, lips still brushing with every word he said. “You?”

“Hmm?  I took a bus.”

“Good. I’ll drive,” he decided. “Your place or mine?”

Ryan pulled back, blinked at him, and laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find all Arthur Aron's questions [here](https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/open-gently/201310/36-questions-bring-you-closer-together).
> 
> This is non beta and English is not my first language, so sorry for any error you might see here. Kudos and comments are always welcome. Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> Btw, for Thai version: [จิ้มอ่านได้ทางนี้ค่ะ](https://twitter.com/thewolfzaalin/status/1015593587575156741)
> 
> (แต่ในทวิตนั่นยังไม่ได้เกลานะ..)


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